Sometimes it's hard to move on
by dalmatian jasper
Summary: "So you are a ghost!" He was confused, what was currently happening was something far too odd to ever be considered normal. But it felt as if this family thought nothing of the paranormal presence before him. He knew they could see it, so why were they paying it no mind?


When he moved here he honestly expected something more... normal. He wasn't referring to Hinahoho and Rurumu, no no no they were lovely. But from the moment he got here something about the house just felt _off_. There was no way to pinpoint one thing, it was just weird. Weather it be the random shadows he'd see in the corner of the room, things moving from their spot in his room, you know the usual paranormal stuff.

What made this feeling worse was when he brought it up with Rurumu. Who had simply told him "oh that's just Ja'far,"... They'd fucking named it. This wasn't a normal thing, why did she make it sound so normal. A little heads up might have been nice. Would he have believed them? Probably not, but at leat it would've softened the blow a little.

Previous Sinbad had told a friend of his, Mystras, about this little dilemma. Having found a Ouija board the previous week they thought it would be interesting to test it out. There was a house that was assumed to be haunted, the family that lived there have all had experiences with this spirit. Why wouldn't they try it out. Not so surprisingly this didn't turn out so great.

It stared simple. Sinbad had asked "what's your name?", already known the answer he wasn't too surprised when the planchette moved to J-A-F-A-R. Mystras, on the other had, had assumed this wouldn't work and was convinced this was Sinbad's doing. So he asked the questions next.

"How did you die?" Mystras was shaking in an almost comical manner. But this time nothing happened, the planchette didn't even begin to move. But Sinbad was impatient, he was beginning to get board. Yes, he's currently contacting the spirit that resides in this house, but they were asking such boring questions. If this thing was going to mess with him, he'd mess with it tenfold.

"Hey, hey Ja'far! Is Casper really a friendly ghost? Do you know him?" Sinbad that he was hilarious. Mystras was trying to stifle a giggle. This was until they heard clattering from behind them. He may have taken this too far. This entity had knocked off his phone and some pens. It's wasn't a particularly menacing gesture- but it was unnerving all the same.

It would probably be best to end to 'game' there, all they had to do was say goodbye. Of course they didn't do that, to panicked about their- Sinbad's- stupid decisions. They slammed the board into its box, and departed to find a good place to put this cured item, and forget about it.

Currently Sinbad was sat in his room, contemplating what to do about this 'Ja'far'. He couldn't get ride of it, Hinahoho and Rurumu seemed fine with this entity. Heck Rurumu was oddly comfortable with it. Sinbad swears that he's heard her casually speaking with it. On a side note though why'd they name it Ja'far? It seemed so odd. Sinbad could bring it up, but he had a feeling that it would hear. And Sinbad's not down to anger some creepy spirit. Again.

But just then that very entity entered the room. Sinbad bad barely mumbled "Speak of the devil..." before attracting its attention. The spirit in question was short and petite, it wore a pale green dress, and seemed to be annoyed.

"Well excuse me, for wanting to see what you've done to _my_ room." It was currently adjusting the position of an old, red telephone, that had been here since he'd arrived. He didn't like that telephone, when he first got here he moved it to give himself some more room. It was broken anyway, so he doubted it would matter. However, later on he found the telephone back in its original spot, his belongings that had replaced it were scattered on the floor.

"Um... I believe this is Hinahoho and Rurumu' s house... you might have lived here before but you don't own the place." Somehow he managed to stutter that out, and God he knew he was going to regret this.

"Oh Sinbad," Oh God it knows my name, "I'm _terribly_ sorry that I'm annoyed you're messing with my stuff." Oh I wonder what it could be referring to. "But of _course_ this is _all_ my fault for dying and becoming forever stuck in this house. Just excuse me, after all I'm a ghost I'm obviously below you, and could never even comprehend human emotions. Since it's been so long since I was alive."

"So you are a ghost!" He was confused, what was currently happening was something far too odd to ever be considered normal. But it felt as if this family thought nothing of the paranormal presence before him. He knew they could see it, so why were they paying it no mind? Sinbad had not been here long but he knew the entity, probably, wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock, what was your first clue? The _ghostly_ pale skin? Translucent body? Or no maybe it was the God damn hole in my head?". The spirit's words were practically dripping with sarcasm. It seemed as if Sinbad may have pissed it off, but he just watched as it swiftly moved past him, slamming the door as it left.

Well, at least it wasn't a demon? You've always gotta' look at the positives, and after angering the sarcastic spirit that dwelled within his new home there weren't many.


End file.
